Pathetic
by icelandisagaygay
Summary: This is what the world has come to…We're so far gone...that not even we're capable of feeling anything without injecting ourselves with filth…
1. Peace

He didn't like needles. He didn't like getting shots. He didn't like it. He hated it with everything in him.

They always had to strap him down when they had to inject it into him.

He could hear his mother screaming at him like she always did, about how he needed it. How it was normal.

He was being childish, and he knew that. But that didn't change his opinion about it.

He watched as the blue liquid was injected to him, as the skin around the injection turned a dark blue, before going back to it's normal flesh tone.

He slammed his eyes shut, and tried to hold back that feeling of...peace, is what they called it.

Peace…

Calmness. Serenity…_pathetic._

He didn't want it. He didn't want to feel it.

He'd rather go around as an empty shell than have that...that shit, injected into him without his consent.

But he always lost. He always felt himself immediately calm down, a warm feeling spreading around inside him. Like it always did.

"Isn't that better, elskan?" His mother asked, her voice sickeningly gentle, her fingers brushing his cheek, wiping away the tears that had dared fall.

No. No it isn't. It isn't better.

"Ja…" He answered, his hands shaking.

"Give him the next one." She ordered, snapping her head to face the nurse. "Now."

"Ja, Mrs. Bondevik." The nurse replied, nodding her head, turning back to the table to get the next case.

The next one. Joy.

And then Empathy.

Then Hope.

Then...his least favorite.

_Love._

"Give him another Peace." His mother said, tapping the nurse on the arm. "And...while you're at it, another Joy."

"Mrs. Bondevik, we're running low on Joy, we can give him a third shot of Peace, if that-"

"No." She said, waving the nurse off. "Another Joy. Get someone to send my husband in. I have a meeting in an hour that I can't be late for."

And without another word she left the room, leaving the nurse and him by themselves.

The nurse gave a long sigh, her shoulders slumping. "How do you put up with her?" She asked, groaning.

He didn't answer her. He was too busy staring at where they had injected the Peace, and how the skin around it was turning blue.

"Two Joy, another Peace, Hope, Empathy, Love...I'm going to need another shot of Peace by the end of the day…"

The nurse left the room, shouting out into the hallway that his father was needed in the room.

This is what the world has come to… He thought, a smile slowly rising. We're so far gone...that not even we're capable of feeling anything without injecting ourselves with filth…

Pathetic.

They were _pathetic._


	2. Anger

"We've talked about this so many times, Lukas…" His father let out a deep sigh, setting his pen down on the table. "It's getting ridiculous, honestly. One more freak out like that and they won't ever let us go back." Lies.

The skin on his arm was a disgusting, marshy green. A bandage was wrapped around his elbow, hiding the small, red dots from the injections. Small droplets of blood had bled through, reminding him even more of the filth that had been forced into him.

_Just keep on talking,_ He thought, never once looking up at his father as he talked, _I won't pay attention either way._

"I don't understand how you can hate them so much. They're what give us our ability to feel."

_No, you filth. They're the reason we feel anything at all. Don't you get that? Don't you understand?_

"You should act more like your brother when he gets his injections."

_Don't you mean the empty shell?_

_But isn't that what you want to be?_

"The shots don't bother him one bit. Why should they bother you, then? You're almost an adult...I don't understand."

_Of course you don't._

"I don't know...I just don't like needles."

Buy it, take it. Like you always do.

"Maybe we should have you see someone about it…" He mindlessly tapped his fingers on the table, his voice drifting off. "Then maybe you'd give the nurses an easier time with the shots."

"It's not necessary." Lukas said, flashing his father a small smile. "I won't freak out like I did next time. I promise."

The smile on his father's face let him know that he had won.

Again.

It was too easy.

"I trust you. And I expect you to keep that promise, young man." The pen returned to his hand.

Don't lose the smile just yet. "Of course." He said, reaching across the table and grabbing his father's hand. "Don't worry about it. You can trust me."

"I trust you." And just like that, he was back to flipping through his papers, his focus on his son seemingly gone.

Good.

Just keep on lying. They'll always believe you. They have no reason not to…

"But…"

Not normal. This was not normal.

_What did I do wrong?_

"I think you should talk to your brother at least. Ask him how he's so calm when getting his shots, or maybe how to act calm when getting him. Just...just in case, okay? And maybe, while you're at it, try to have a conversation with him. I haven't seen you two talk normally in God knows how long. So, talk to him. Get to know the person he is now, and try to understand him. I'm sure if you give him a chance he'll do the exact same for you." Lies.

_You want me to talk to the empty shell?_

_How can you talk to something that isn't there?_

"Alright. I'll ask him later." Don't lose the smile. Keep it on. Convince him.

"No, I want you to ask him now."

_I can't talk to him. I can't talk to something that isn't there._

_I can't even look at him._

"Alright."

He could feel his whole body shaking.

It's been so long...too long.

The sound of the chair scraping against the floor when he pushed the chair back made him wince. His arm throbbed. His father's smile made him want to throw up.

_I haven't tried in so long._

_Why scream when he doesn't even hear? When he doesn't even bother to listen?_

"Tell me how it goes, okay? I want to see my boys talking again. I expect to hear only good things, ja?"

_Lie. Just lie. He'll never know._

"Ja."

He gripping the bandaged elbow, and forced himself to walk to the stairs.

_One step at a time. You can do it._

_You can talk to him, can't you? To that empty shell?_

To the empty shell with the needle scarred skin. To the empty shell with the dull, violet eyes. To the empty shell...where there's nothing left.

To the filth?

"Go away. I don't want to talk to you."

_Then go. You don't want to talk to him either, don't you? Just go. He won't care, and neither will you._

"I don't care." Apparently not. "I…it's been a while…"

"Yeah. I wonder why."

_He's blaming you?_

_Pathetic, isn't it?_

It was hard to ignore that every inch of his brother's arms were covered in tiny, red dots. How parts of his skin had turned completely black, contrasting disgustingly against his pasty, white skin.

_Filth._

"It's not my fault that you can't control yourself when it comes to your injections..."

_Blame him. It's all his fault._

Knuckles turned white. Dull, violet eyes turned fiery.

He's an empty shell? Why lie to yourself?

He's there. Just in broken, tiny pieces. Shattered, even. But he's there.

_Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting._

"You think I _like_ it? You honestly think I enjoy it?"

Once glance down at his arms. Yes, he did.

"I hate it. Do you think I like seeing my skin covered in these...these…"

_Trash._

"Just go away. Just lie to them like you always do. Tell them that we had a good talk, that everything's sorted out."

"You knew that they-"

"Why else would you bother to talk to me? You're not that hard to read, Lukas. And they aren't either." He said, finishing it with a laugh. "Just go away. Don't bother talking to me again, because _trust me_, I won't answer. And you'd be totally okay with, wouldn't you?"

No.

"Of course. Why would I bother with someone as disgusting as you?"

_You're all filth. You're all disgusting._

_Won't you do something? Won't you say something?_

_But why scream when no one bothers to listen?_


End file.
